


The Right Words

by T Verano (t_verano)



Series: December, This Time Around [20]
Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: 2015 TS Secret Santa Extravaganza, Christmas fic, M/M, Winter fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2020-05-12 08:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19225471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t_verano/pseuds/T%20Verano
Summary: December with the guys a couple of years post-TSbyBS.Christmas morning in the clearing.





	The Right Words

**Author's Note:**

> written for the 2015 TS Secret Santa Extravaganza

Blair watched the steam rise from the cup of hot chocolate he and Jim were sharing. The fallen log they were sitting on was pretty comfortable, as far as fallen logs went, and it had a great view: the clearing, _their_ clearing, was blanketed in snow and sparkling in the bright Christmas morning sunlight. The sky was the same achingly pure shade of blue it'd been on the summer day three and a half years ago when he'd managed to convince Jim that the world wouldn't end if the two of them actually kissed. It hadn't really been the beginning of this thing between them — that had been going on for a long time before that — but it had been the beginning, if kind of a rocky one, of _them._

Coming here with Jim always felt good. Felt right. 

Except that this morning something was weird. 

Something was weird with Jim, something that had started the minute they sat down, something that was making him grow more tense by the moment.

It was driving Blair crazy. "Jim," he said, nudging Jim's arm with his elbow, "what's going on? Is something wrong?"

Jim dropped his gaze from where he'd been staring out into the clearing and looked down, apparently at his knees. "Fish or cut bait," he muttered, and okay, _that_ was helpful.

"Jim," Blair prodded.

Jim looked up from his knees and huffed a wry-sounding laugh. "Nothing's wrong, Chief," he said. "I'm just having a hard time finding the words I need. No surprise there, huh?"

Blair narrowed his eyes. "Words for what?" Jim was _not_ about to tell him to go take a permanent hike. They were past that. They were so past that. Being absolutely sure of that didn't keep Blair's stomach from dropping down into the toes of his boots, however.

"The thing is, I've said all the words before. Even made them official once, and I meant them when I said them, but they weren't enough. I don't want that for us."

"Okay," Blair said slowly. 

"We can't make it official anyway, at least not here, not until the law gets a little more open-minded. Hell, we can't even make it too public until enough of the cops we work with get a little more open-minded. So I thought maybe… maybe we could do something else. For now."

"Okay," Blair said again. His stomach was still down in the toes of his boots, where it appeared to have taken up permanent residence. Jim couldn't be saying what it sounded like he was saying. He couldn't.

He watched silently as Jim stood up and reached into one of the pockets in his parka. "It's not exactly a Christmas present," Jim said, "but this seemed like it'd be a good time and place for it." He held out a lumpy white something towards Blair, a lumpy white —

— sock. A lumpy white athletic sock tied at the top with one of Blair's leather hair ties.

Blair cleared his throat. "Nice wrapping."

"Hoped you might like it," Jim said. "I kind of liked it myself. Open it, Chief."

It was hard to look away from Jim's eyes, but Blair peeled off his gloves and untied the leather tie, then pulled out an oblong cardboard box. He paused and looked up at Jim.

The expression on Jim's face wasn't one Blair had ever seen there before."Open it," Jim said again. "Just… it's not anything traditional, like I said." He shrugged, and now he looked far more vulnerable than Jim Ellison usually ever let himself look, vulnerable and almost awkward, like he figured Blair was going to open the box, take one look, and laugh in his face.

Yeah, like that was going to happen. Whatever non-traditional thing was in the box, it meant something to Jim, and that was enough for Blair. And for Blair's stomach, which had relented enough to move up from the toes of his boots and start hovering around ankle level.

Blair opened the box with fingers that were a little shaky — this clearly meant a _lot_ to Jim — and immediately found himself smiling, first down at the contents of the box and then up at Jim. The watch was beautiful — classy without being _too_ classy; the kind of watch he could wear anywhere. 

It was also the kind of thing he could wear anywhere, look at a million times a day, and think of Jim. 

It was perfect. 

"It's beautiful," he said. He was pretty sure how he felt about the watch had made it into his voice and his smile at Jim, but the vulnerable expression on Jim's face didn't change.

"Look at the back," Jim said.

Blair turned the watch over. The words 'I promise I shall never give up' were engraved on the metal. He looked up at Jim questioningly.

"It's a quote from Kerouac," Jim said. He took off his gloves and pulled off his own watch, turned it over and handed it to Blair. "So's this."

Blair looked at the engraved words — words that hadn't been there for very long; Blair had borrowed Jim's watch for a day back before Thanksgiving, and there hadn't been any engraving on the back of the watch then — and read, 'One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.'

He had to blink hard a few times before he could look up at Jim again. He swallowed. "You already have, Jim. Found the right words, I mean." His throat felt almost like it was closing up on him and he had to swallow again before he went on. "And I do — promise not to give up, ever."

The vulnerable expression on Jim's face was gone, replaced by a smile so warm and open and _happy_ that Blair wanted to wrap it around himself so he could hold onto it forever.

"I know that, Chief," Jim said. "I know you won't give up. Neither will I; I wanted you to know that, too."

"So I guess we're stuck with each other," Blair said. He didn't remember standing up or moving into Jim's space, but there he was.

"Yeah, I guess we are," Jim said.

Simple words, yeah. And as far as Blair was concerned, the right ones. 

"Yes," he said to Jim, because maybe they weren't doing the traditional thing right now, but he still wanted to be completely clear to Jim.

Jim's eyebrow quirked up in tandem with the corner of his mouth. "Yes?" 

"Yes."

"Good," Jim said, just before he took Blair's face in his hands and leaned down a little to kiss him.

Blair closed his eyes and lost himself in the kiss. In Jim.

_Yes._

It would be always be _yes,_ for Jim.

**Author's Note:**

> The quotations are both from Jack Kerouac. The passage the quotation on Blair's watch is from reads in full: 'I promise I shall never give up, and that I'll die yelling and laughing, and that until then I'll rush around this world I insist is holy and pull at everyone's lapel and make them confess to me and to all.'


End file.
